


Full of Belonging (and so full of love)

by Truetomorrow



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: A bit of cumplay, Blowjobs, Credence in Lingerie, Credence was taken away by Tina and Queenie and Graves and they discovered he is a wizard, Fluff, Graves and Credence are roommates, Lingerie, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Queenie meddles!lite, Self-Indulgent, Set in the 1920s, demisexual Credence, guided masturbation, magical sex-lines would absolutely be a thing, sex-line operator Credence, the movie did not happen, virgin credence, who's homophobia i don't know them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 07:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11353032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truetomorrow/pseuds/Truetomorrow
Summary: Credence is a magical 1920s sex-line operator who has never had sex. Or touched himself. He's managing just fine on his own, but then Percival offers to show him the ropes—what else are friends for?





	Full of Belonging (and so full of love)

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the [anon challenge](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Anonymous_Fic_Game) <3
> 
> Quick note: Patented Daydream Charms are fine, but WHAT IF the Weasley twins created their charm based on the idea of some 1920s Manual Daydream spell?  
> Basically, I’m thinking it’s a bit like a daydream charm, but that the “caller” is talking about what they want done to them or whatever, and the “operators” are fueling visions of the actions, as well as responding verbally. Also I’ve watched _For a Good Time, Call_ way too many times, so this was bound to happen
> 
> Title from a dodie song <3

Credence had never considered what he would do with his life after escaping his Ma.

His existence with her had seemed so unrelenting and the circumstances so unquestionable; when he had thought about it at all, it was in vague terms and hazy images of _away_. He hadn’t been totally positive he _would_ ever escape her. The desire to be free beat any need to plan for the reality.

When the time comes, it turns out the reality is better than he could have even dreamed—also more unbelievable. Witches are real, and he is one of them; he has friends, and his _friends_ are witches; he has Mr. Graves who has given him a place to live, and more and more it starts to feel like home.

(Even more, he has Mr. Graves. Full stop. Mr. Graves, who is kind and strong and teaches him magic and is Credence’s _friend_.)

Soon, he has a job.

\----------

In the very beginning, after the shock of discovering what Queenie’s job is now had worn off and the curiosity settled in, Credence sits in on Queenie’s calls. Too often, they end up trying to keep their faces straight and their giggles locked in. Yet, when Queenie mentions that they could use another operator, and would Credence be interested, he barely has to pause before replying that he will do it.

The training starts in earnest, then. Credence would never have expected Queenie to know half of the things she teaches him, though she is quick to giggle and explain that being a legilimens has finally come in handy. She ends up hearing thoughts that jump right into pornographic territory anyway; she might as well use them to make a little money to help out around the house.

Now that Tina is back to being a full-time Auror, and Credence still needs someone to teach him the bulk of the magic he’s missed out on, Queenie had gleefully taken a leave of absence from her job at MACUSA. She had already been doing a few hours of calls here and there, but now it is her full-time job, and she is the top operator in the area.

Credence feels like a fool the first few times Queen lets him participate, certain the callers could tell he had no idea what he was doing. He soon finds that the more practice he gets, the easier it becomes to forget himself. Plus, no one has complained, yet, so he must be doing something right.

Queenie says it has something to do with his innocence, and only smiles at him as he insists he is not innocent, look at what their job is. Queenie kindly reminds him that just because he can mimic the sounds heard in dark alleys at the appropriate times, it doesn’t mean he knows anything about the act itself. Credence then reminds her there is a lot he doesn’t know, and that is usually distraction enough to get her to bake him something sweet.

He always brings back the extras to a bemused, but grateful, Mr. Graves “Credence, I enjoy having you live with me; you know I don’t expect anything in return.”

Soon enough, Credence is able to manage most calls totally on his own, and can work from his own room at Mr. Graves’s apartment "Credence, it's your home, too."

At first, he feels guilty, but justifies that as long as the dinner is ready when Mr. Graves "Please Credence, it's Percival" comes home, and he doesn't outright lie, it's fine. He's only trying to help out. 

And if Mr. Graves “Credence, we have talked about this” never comes home to ask him if he has started working as a magical sex-line operator, is that Credence’s fault?

In the year since he began lessons, he has learned most of the basic spells wizards use daily, and Queenie even taught him a few variations of the silencing charm so he can take calls in the evening, after he tells Mr. Graves "Credence, please." he is going to bed. (Which isn't quite a lie. He is in bed.)

Once there, with the charm set that blocks any actual sounds from leaving his room—but _should_ anyone listen, makes it sound like he is sleeping peacefully—he slips out of his outer clothes, setting them gently in their respective places and leaving him in the underthings Queenie had helped him pick out with the first of his earnings. 

The silk and lace feel like the softest sin against his skin, and the knowledge that he earned the money for the decadence of the lingerie makes the experience even better.

Running a hand over his silk-covered hip, he can't hold back a small smile. It really doesn't hurt that he looks nice in them.

\----------

Credence estimates he has at least an hour before Mr. Graves is due to arrive back from work, and often he comes later than expected. That is plenty of time for one call, so he taps the compact with his wand and a murmured _defututa_ , activating the charm and sending the signal to the schedulers that he is available.

A moment later there is a cheerful chime, and Credence hears a throat being cleared and a bright voice chirping, "heya, dollface, you up to playing a baby boy right now?"

Credence laughs, "It's one of the easier ones, are you kidding me, Laura? Only time for one call this shift, but I’ll take it!"

"Kid, you just saved my curls, no one else was available for this specific call. Alright, you've got thirty seconds prep. That enough time?"

Credence makes a noise of assent, pushing at his bedroom door, but not too worried when it doesn't click shut. He doesn't bother casting a spell for silence, or taking off more than his jacket and vest. He does set an alarm on his pocket watch, though; setting it to go off a few minutes before the earliest he would expect Mr. Graves to arrive back, and takes up a seat on his bed.

The call is an easy one, just as Credence had anticipated, the caller not needing more than a few moaned "daddy"s and the slick sound of Credence mouthing at and "choking" on his fingers.

Swirling his wand every so often to keep the enchantment going on the compact, Credence flips idly through a textbook on charms.

The caller is getting close to coming, Credence can tell, so he ups his volume, crying out a stream of "harder, daddy! Oh you feel so good, yes daddy! Yes there, I'm so close, ohhhh daddy!" and listens as the man chokes out a groan, calling him baby a few more times as he reaches completion.

Credence flips another page.

After a moment of silence, Laura clicks back on and they chat for only a moment before Credence hears the door to the apartment slam. Odd. Glancing at his watch, he notes that Mr. Graves is a little early. From the slam, it doesn't sound like it's been a good day, so he ends the call with Laura, her thanking him again for taking the call, and he goes to greet his roommate.

As he gets up, however, he hears the man nearly stomp past his door before the door to the master bangs shut, and Credence frowns. Normally Mr. Graves stops to at least tap on Credence's door, especially if he's left it open. Hesitating for a moment in the hallway, he decides it is better to put the finishing touches on their dinner, so he heads to the kitchen, shooting a concerned glance toward the closed door at the end of the hall.

Mr. Graves's mood does not improve by the time they sit down to dinner.

Credence tries to ask him about his day, worried now about the frustration fairly rolling off of him, but Mr. Graves just shrugs and says that nothing is the matter, did Credence have a nice day? Frowning, Credence talks a bit about his day, mentioning a few things he had found interesting in his reading, but trailing off when he notices the other man scowling down at his plate. That's it.

"Mr. Graves, please won't you tell me what happened?"

The older man scowls. "Credence, how many times have I asked you to call me Percival, dammit!"

They are both shocked at his outburst, and Graves opens his mouth—to apologize?—but Credence jumps in first. "Alright. Percival, dammit, please won't you tell me what happened?"

The man deflates. "I deserved that..."

Credence doesn’t argue.

“I’m sorry, my boy. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just wish you wouldn’t… You don’t need to hide things from me. You know you can tell me anything, right? Or…” he looks nervous now, “I would like to think you would…”

Credence gapes at him. “Mr.— Percival, of course. Of course I know.” He’s not sure what to say. Did he do something wrong? Credence doesn’t think he’s lied to Percival about anything. What could he have done?

Looking supremely uncomfortable, Percival clears his throat. “You are welcome to… bring home guests. You didn’t need to send your… friend… home.”

Credence groans in embarrassment. “You heard that?” His face is flushed cherry red, and Credence buries it in his hands, unable to meet Percival’s gaze. “It’s not… exactly what you think.” He expects Percival to say something, but when he peeks from between his fingers, the man is sitting silently, watching him. Credence sucks in a deep breath, letting it out again in a heavy exhale.

“How do I explain…? I was alone in the room. But I _was_ talking to someone. A, uh. I was talking to a caller. I’m a sex-line operator.” He holds up the compact stamped with the company logo, and glances at Percival to gauge his reaction. He looks relieved, and Credence’s flush renews.

Percival chuckles. “ _Queenie_.” He’s still grinning, though, so Credence smiles and ducks his head, placing the compact back in his pocket.

“Yeah, I accidentally walked in on her once when I was staying over, and, well. Here I am. It’s an easy enough way to make a little money, and the hours are as flexible as I need.” He holds up a hand when Percival frowns, “I know I don’t _need_ to pay my way, but while I’m still learning magic, this is a job I can actually do. It’s kinda fun, really.”

Much more comfortable now, they both resume eating, discussing their days. Credence feels like a huge burden has been released, and when he tells Percival about a particularly strange encounter with a caller who only wanted to imagine himself being covered in orange marmalade, everything feels truly right in his life for the first time that he can remember.

\----------

It has been months since Credence had revealed his job to Percival, and by now he barely bothers placing silencing charms unless Percival needs to focus, or the caller is particularly loud. Most often, Credence is set up in the living room when Percival arrives home, and they wave silently before continuing on with their days until dinner.

On another day where Percival arrives early, Credence had just finished a call when Percival walks in with dinner, and Credence’s eyes light up. He loves when Percival brings back food, it’s always something new and interesting. Sniffing at the air, Credence laughs and Percival announces, “Theseus says hi?”

They eat the meal of greasy fish and chips, Credence insisting on using plates “Yes, Percival, I understand it comes in newsprint, but I would rather not have their faces watching me while I eat. They are judging us, I hope you know that.”

Percival rolls his eyes, but tosses the newspapers to the side of the table when the food has been transferred to the plates. They eat in silence until only a few fried potatoes, “chips” Percival reminds him, are left.

With a glance, Percival nudges the discarded newsprint before wiping his hands clean. “They may be watching, but I doubt they’re judging. How do you manage release if you’re constantly afraid of the portraits judging you?”

Percival has a slight flush as he asks, avoiding Credence’s eyes, and Credence flushes a bit as he wipes his own hands clean. Sex itself isn’t a taboo subject, especially since Percival had learned about Credence’s job, but they have never discussed specifics. Percival knows Credence is a virgin, Credence knows Percival is not; that’s been about the extent of their conversations on the topic.

“Well, I never thought about it? I mean, I don’t, um.” Percival glances up in surprise, meeting Credence’s eyes now. “I’ve never done… that?”

Silence. Credence looks up to find Percival staring at him in shock. 

“Never?” 

Shifting uncomfortably, Credence feels his shoulders droop. “Well. No. That’s the one thing I never got punished for.” Even as he says it, Credence knows this attempt at a joke has failed. 

He picks at a loose thread in his shirt, avoiding the other man’s eyes. He feels ashamed, but isn’t sure why, exactly. So he’s never self-abused, isn’t that a good thing?

Maybe it’s not normal.

Credence’s breath catches. Do people do it just because? What do they think about? He had thought this was the one way he was not sinful, but Credence can feel himself becoming confused, now.

He doesn’t think the men and women who call in are sinful. Some days, he even goes so far as to believe he is not sinful just for his existence. But what does it mean, that…

Credence jumps when he feels Percival drop a warm hand on his shoulder, rubbing his thumb across it in a comforting motion. Dimly, he realizes he’s stood up and backed away from the table.

“Forgive me, my boy. It’s just.” He pauses, head tilting slightly to the side as he considers Credence. “You’re a sex line operator who not only has no experience with another person… he hasn’t even self-completed.” 

There is an expression in his eyes, a heat that Credence can’t decipher, but it brings a flush to his cheeks and a flutter in his belly in a way that even hours of listening to the callers on the line in every stage of arousal doesn’t manage. 

That’s new.

He looks away again, unable to face the intensity even as he finds himself craving it, but opens his mouth to say, “I wouldn’t even know where to begin…” 

They both know that’s not true. Percival has walked in on enough of his calls by now to know Credence can easily guide someone through simple masturbation.

The hand on his shoulder stills as Credence works up the nerve to meet Percival’s eyes again.

They consider each other for a few moments before Percival’s hand slides up to cup Credence’s neck, and he’s surprised to feel his heart stutter at the motion.

“Like a training exercise? Walk you through the actual activity, so you can help the callers? Help you to have a better understanding of what they’re feeling?” Percival’s eyes are blank, yielding nothing to Credence’s searching gaze. 

He swallows and watches the other man’s eyes flick down to his throat, which has suddenly become too dry. He swallows again, and licks his lips before he feels prepared enough to respond.

Percival’s eyes are still fixed somewhere below Credence’s eyes and Credence is suddenly having a hard time catching his breath. “Exactly. It would be a favor. Between friends.” 

Credence knows this is a Very Bad Idea when he feels his stomach flutter as Percival slowly smiles and meets his eyes again, holding out a hand. “Deal.”

Now slightly uncomfortable, Credence frowns as he reaches out to clasp hands with Percival. Maybe if they focus on business… “How do you want me?”

Percival chuckles in a way that sends a shiver down Credence’s spine and makes him bite down on the impulse to draw back his hand, which Percival still holds clasped in his own. 

“That is a dangerous question, my boy. But for now, where will you be most comfortable?” Percival has started up that same comforting stroking movement with his thumb on Credence’s hand, and it feels like tracks of Hellfire across his palm and wrist.

Now that he thinks about it, everything feels far too warm.

Realizing he has yet to respond, Credence rasps out, “bed?”

From the way Percival’s eyes darken and he slowly releases Credence’s hand, still lingering too long before finally letting go, that seems to have been the correct answer. Percival follows Credence to his room, and Credence hesitates briefly before climbing onto the bed.

Credence reclines on his bed with a shiver, and Percival waves a hand to ignite the fireplace, not looking away from Credence on the bed. 

“Go ahead and undress as much as you are comfortable… but I would recommend getting rid of everything for the full experience.” Percival’s voice is steady and business-like, but the thought of being naked in front of this unflappable man, his Mister Graves, is too much. 

“Would you…” Credence waves a vague hand at Percival’s jacketed form, and the man grins at him. 

“Of course, my boy. I have no desire to ever intimidate you, much less here and now.” 

As he speaks, Percival undoes the buttons of his jacket by hand, and Credence pulls himself into a seated position to copy the movements on his own vest, moving onto the shirt beneath when Percival undoes the buttons of his vest, and he hears the older man’s breath catch as Credence shrugs out of his shirt; he had foregone his usual undershirt today so the one movement bares his entire chest and torso. His own breath hitches as he watches Percival roll up the sleeves of his button-up, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he undoes his tie and the top two buttons; his fingers hesitate over a third before moving away to carefully place the items together in a stack.

With a wave of his hand, Percival’s discarded clothes whisk themselves off to his room. Credence watches Percival settle into a chair he pulls over to the side of the bed as Credence begins to slip his trousers off, hesitating only for a moment before revealing his lacy panties beneath. 

Percival lets out a cough that could also be a groan, and Credence glances at the older man beneath his lashes, thumbs tucked into the band of his underwear, trying to gauge his reaction. He is flushed and all of his focus is on Credence’s hands and the fabric beneath.

“Credence…” His voice is hoarse and he pauses to take a deep breath, letting it out again slowly. “Credence, that is a lovely color on you.” The last few words are nearly a whisper, and Credence blushes furiously as Percival meets his eyes again.

Feeling bolstered by the approval, Credence slips the scrap of fabric off and tosses it to join the rest of his discarded clothes.

The reality of being fully undressed has Credence immediately tense. Fighting the shame at his nudity and the hard length between his legs is almost a physical thing, and he scowls in determination, making himself remain as he is, spread out before a casual but still fully-clothed Percival. 

And oh.

That does something to him, his cock twitching at the thought just as much as the sight before him. 

The first touch to his cock leaves him gasping in sharply, letting out a sound he is positive he has never made before, and Percival shifts in his chair, looking pained. “Alright, let’s start a bit slower than that.” Credence releases himself and nods weakly.

“Trail a hand over your chest, sweetheart.” With a moan at the endearment, Credence moves one hand to grip the sheets while the other passes over his chest, gasping as he runs it over his nipples.

“ _Oh_.”

“Good. That’s good. Give it a little pinch.” The first time, his fingers spasm, pinching too hard and Credence jerks up with a keen; he quickly releases his nipple and lowers himself back to the bed, panting.

“ _Shit_ ,” Credence glances over to Percival who is frozen in place, pupils blown wide with desire, and Credence feels an answering jolt of arousal shoot through him.

Maybe it shouldn’t be a surprise, but Credence’s breath catches as he realizes that he wants Percival. He _wants_ him. And Credence is beginning to believe it just might be possible to be with him.

With growing confidence, Credence runs a hand over his torso and watches as Percival’s eyes track his movement down, lips parting as Credence draws closer to his cock. Just before he can make contact, Credence switches the direction of his hand to move back up to his nipples, and Percival _wheezes_.

“Looks like you’re getting the hang of it…” Credence is biting his lip as he keeps eye contact with Percival. It seems that every ounce of him is focused on resisting the urge to reach out to the older man, beg him to join Credence in the bed. “God, sweetheart, you’re doing so well. Just keep touching wherever it feels good.”

Credence’s eyes drift away to follow Percival’s hand as he moves to undo two more buttons, and continuing down, Credence whines, scraping his fingernails gently over his skin.

Percival is hard.

Credence _knows_ this is not something friends do, sit and watch each other masturbate, but seeing the evidence of Percival’s arousal just from _watching_ Credence makes him shiver.

Now that he’s finally _started_ touching himself, Credence is becoming impatient, moving his hand down to trail his fingers over his cock, hissing in pleasure at the contact before fully wrapping his hand around it.

Even being more prepared for it as he is, the sensation just from that one hand is almost too much, and he whimpers when he finally gives it a few tentative strokes. It is wet at the tip, and Credence wonders what it would taste like.

Trying to distract himself, Credence decides it’s now or never.

"Percival...? I want to watch you. I need to see if I'm doing it right." Credence watches in awe as his request causes Percival to grip the armrests and groan.

"You're perfect. Fuck, darling, you're doing such a good job..." His voice is hoarse and gravel-rough, but his hands remain firmly on the chair’s arms.

Credence lets out a high whine, "please?" He keeps his hand unmoving at the base of his cock, as if presenting it to Percival.

For a long moment, they stare at each other, panting and tense. Then finally, slowly, Percival moves his hands to loose his trousers and pull them down until they catch on his ass where he tries to shift up from the seat enough to remove them. With a huff of annoyance, Percival waves a hand and vanishes both his trousers and underclothes. Credence jolts in surprise at the skin suddenly on display, and lets out another whine when that causes his hand to twitch against his nipple.

By now Percival’s shirt is fully unbuttoned, the sleeves still rolled up to his elbows, and he is fully naked below the waist. The man looks _debauched_ and Credence can’t stop himself from staring. He thinks he may understand the appeal of this activity, when the result looks like Percival does now, when just the thought of carnal activity with this man brings such pleasure.

Greedily drinking in the sight before him, Credence moves his hand against his cock again. Percival moves his own hand at the same pace as Credence, which he tests by speeding up and slowing his movements and watching as Percival keeps up with him.

At the thought that it might as well be _Percival’s_ hand stroking over his cock right now, Credence falls trembling over the edge he hadn’t known he had been approaching. He lets out a shocked shout as his climax hits, head tilted back and back bowed in a sharp arch while his feet scrabble for purchase against the sheets.

Something warm and wet falls on his stomach, his chest, and the next time he licks his lips, he tastes salt.

Over the waves of pleasure still shivering through him and his own cries, which he can’t seem to control, he dimly hears a frantic “ _Credence!_ ” and opens his eyes to watch as Percival begins to fall apart, hand moving over his erection in short jerks, the head glistening.

Instinctively, desperately, Credence locks eyes with Percival and says, “come for me.”

And he does, cum spilling over Percival’s fingers, a rogue spurt streaking over the bed sheets before he can move to block it.

The sight is erotic, watching Percival’s face go taut then slack, somewhere between agony and bliss—and Credence feels his cock give a small twitch of interest, heat coiling again in his groin.

Before Percival can move where he sits boneless in the chair, Credence reaches out, movements slow but determined, and grabs the older man’s wrist, bringing the hand to his mouth.

With kitten licks, Credence cleans up Percival’s cum from his hand, humming with approval, and Percival curses. It’s salty, and Credence belatedly realizes the taste on his lips earlier had been his own spend.

Curious, he licks over them again.

There is a definite difference in the tastes, but Credence decides he needs more to get a better idea. He reaches down to scoop with two fingers at the cum streaking his chest, but Percival grabs his wrist before he can bring it back to his mouth.

Holding Credence’s hand in front of his own mouth, now, Percival focuses his gaze on Credence, watching. The fingers wrapped around his wrist feel like a brand, and Percival’s breath is hot against his fingers.

With a start, Credence realizes he is trembling, and his cock is twitching in a valiant effort to harden again.

“Please?”

Percival smiles and promptly sucks Credence’s fingers into his mouth—if Credence had thought Percival’s breaths were hot, it is nothing now compared to the searing wet burn that surrounds his skin now.

At the first swirl of Percival’s tongue around his fingers, the moan he lets out at the taste of Credence’s cum, Credence keens.

“Percival… Percy, please.” He’s not totally sure what he is asking for, knows he should have the words for it, should be able to form any sentence beyond what is currently escaping his mouth. But he can’t think. All of the easy filth he can spout off while working means nothing now, with the soft wet press of Percival’s mouth around Credence’s fingers.

This is completely uncharted territory, and Percival is the only person he has ever wanted to explore it with.

“Kiss me?” Credence has only a moment to sit there—terrified even after everything that Percival will say no, will laugh at him, remind him he was only helping as a _friend_ —before Percival is surging forward to kneel over Credence’s body, nearly straddling him. Credence can feel the heat of Percival’s skin, and if he were to cant his hips up just a bit…

Then Percival’s lips are on his own, and coherent thinking fades. When Percival licks at the seam in his lips and Credence opens to his tongue, he imagines he can taste the faintest hint of bitter salt, and Credence whines, wrapping his arms around Percival’s shoulders to keep him from moving away.

“Is this alright?”

Credence pouts. “Well, it was, until you pulled away to ask.”

Percival chuckles, but moves his hands to cup Credence’s face, thumbs running gently over his jaw. He glances down between their bodies, to where Credence is hardening again, and shoots a cheeky grin at Credence.

“How about I make it up to you?” One hand trails down from his jaw to stroke feather-light at his hipbone.

Credence’s eyes widen, catching on, and he barely sucks in enough breath to whisper, “please.”

Percival kisses him once more, a lingering slide of lips and tongues, before he pulls back to look into Credence’s face just to smile.

Credence sucks in a breath as he feels his heart swell and swoop down to his stomach. He loves this man.

He is _in_ love with Percival.

That’s a thought for later, though, Credence decides. There is no use worrying about it now, not with the man here with him right now. Whatever they have right now, Credence knows Percival cares for him, and that is more than enough for now. It is more than he had ever believed he deserved.

He smiles back and strokes a hand through Percival’s hair before trailing down his face, grinning when Percival nuzzles into his palm, giving it a quick kiss as he pulls away to look at Credence again.

And suddenly, Credence can’t hold it in. He wants to tell Percival everything, give Percival everything he has it in his power to provide. Raising his hand so it makes contact with Percival’s face again, filled with joy, Credence studies his face. Percival quirks a smile, cocking his head slightly to the side in query.

“I love you, Percival.” Credence finds that after saying it, he feels calm. He _does_ love Percival. And even if Percival doesn’t feel the same way, or say it back, Credence was brave enough to do this one thing. To give his heart, trusting Percival to treat it kindly.

Percival’s eyes look moist as he leans back down to Credence’s face for a kiss. “Oh, Credence. My darling. I love you, too. I love you.” Credence is nearly giggling while Percival rains kisses down his cheeks, across his lips, but when he starts nipping at Credence’s neck, the next giggle turns into a whine midway through.

This makes Percival grin and pull back. “Now, stop distracting me, I believe I promised you something?”

Credence nods quickly and watches with hooded eyes as Percival shifts down, careful not to touch Credence until he kneels between his knees. For a moment, Percival does nothing but sit and look at Credence’s cock, then he raises a hand to trail a single finger down the length, drawing a gurgle from Credence.

Credence shoots him a started look, and Percival chuckles before leaning down to breathe over the head. Credence is sure his brain has ceased to function, as Percival does nothing more than stroke him gently with one finger and breathe in and out. The touches might as well not even be there, as whisper soft as they are, but they absorb all of his concentration and it takes him minutes to realize the high-pitched sound he hears is coming from his own throat.

“Percy… Please?”

Percival smirks but continues his watching and stroking, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. He wants Credence to ask for this. To request pleasure for himself: not because he thinks he _deserves_ it, just because he wants it. Credence lets out a shaky breath. “Percival. Would you please suck my cock?” He stumbles slightly over the word _cock_ , but any short-lived embarrassment is worth the way Percival’s eyes darken and he breathes out a ragged sigh.

“Hold on, darling.” Then Percival is pressing a kiss to the tip, flicking out his tongue once, before engulfing the head in his mouth. Credence lets out a shout, grabbing at Percival’s hair with one hand, which makes the other man moan around his cock, and trying to stifle his noises with the other, which makes Percival pull off with a pop that makes Credence whine. “None of that, my sweet, let me hear you.”

Credence moves his hand from his mouth to clutch at the bed sheets, letting out a loud moan when Percival resumes his earlier actions.

Credence knows he isn’t going to last long—now that he knows what to look for, he can feel the way his body is tensing with pleasure, the pulses of heat and arousal building, the whines he can’t stop or form into anything more solid. His hand in Percival’s hair tightens, and he tries to pull up, but Percival just rumbles and stubbornly stays where he is.

Desperate, Credence pulls again, saying, “Percival, pl- I’m going to come, please, you need to—” At that, Percival rumbles again, clutching at Credence’s hips as he tries to shift, and _swallows_ his cock.

Credence bucks, screaming as his orgasm slams into him, and he can feel Percival’s arms holding him down, feel his throat and mouth vice-like and burning as he keeps clamped around Credence as he comes. Percival pulls back until just the head is still in his mouth, lapping at the tip and catching the last of Credence’s cum before he moves away with another pop that makes Credence shiver, certain the other man is doing it on purpose.

Percival curls up against Credence on the bed, and Credence managed to huff out half a laugh when he notices that Percival still has his shirt on, although by now it is wildly rumpled and damp with sweat.

He gracelessly slings an arm around Percival’s shoulder, pulling himself to the side to face Percival so he can press kisses to the tip of his nose, his jaw, his cheekbone, and finally his lips, where Percival wraps a hand around Credence’s neck and pulls him in for a proper kiss, nibbling at Credence’s bottom lip before opening his mouth. Shifting closer with a moan, Credence tastes the salt of his cum and eagerly slips his tongue in to chase the flavor.

Both of them are grinning when they break apart, and Credence murmurs “I love you” before he entwines his limbs with Percival.

He feels a warm press of lips against his forehead just before he drifts off, hears the whispered, “I love you” as he holds on to Percival just as tightly as Percival is holding on to him.         

He falls asleep with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

>  _dēfutūta_ "fucked out, exhausted from intercourse" 
> 
> Come vs cum, I took [bluebeholder's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebeholder/pseuds/bluebeholder) post on tumblr to heart as a reference


End file.
